The Heist
by wildlemur
Summary: A thief is snatching some of Melbourne's finest jewellery and Phryne and Jack are forced close together on the hunt to catch them. Warning: smut ahead!
1. Chapter 1

The phone rang just as Jack was leaving the office.

'Of course. Yes, sir, I'll be there as soon as possible.'

He sighed. It was late, but there had been another robbery.

'Collins! Get your hat!' he called, gathering his things. 'The jewel thief strikes again.' Jack glanced at his reflection in the dark glass of the window and straightened his collar. Was it ridiculous to be concerned about what Phryne would think, when she wouldn't even be at the crime scene? Then again, she did always manage to appear when something interesting came up. He sighed at his unpolished reflection, grabbed his coat and hat, and rushed out to the car, collecting Collins on the way.

Jack opened the front door of the old mansion and collided solidly with Melbourne's foremost and only lady detective. Phryne smiled mischievously, and pressed closer against him.

'How lovely of you to join me, Jack. You made good time.'

Jack took a breath and stepped back momentarily to regain his composure, ignoring her warmth and the soft scent of her perfume which was, he admitted to himself, quite delectable, as always. He raised his eyebrows at her and risked glancing away from her startling eyes to take in the fine grey silk gown she was wearing.

'Miss Fisher, how did you possibly-'

'Why Jack, you should know by now that I'm always on the lookout for some fun. Especially if you're around.' She smiled coyly and turned on her heel, displaying quite a lot of bare skin where the grey silk dropped away. He let his eyes drift down the curves of her body.

'It's this way, Inspector.' She smiled over her shoulder, knowingly.

Damn it, she had caught him looking.

**x**

Phryne was delighted to have surprised the Inspector (as usual), but less delighted by the robbery that had occurred right under her nose. As she marched the party of policemen down the hallway, she updated them.

'Mrs. Davies is being looked after upstairs. She received quite a fright when she realised her prized possession had disappeared. She sent all her guests home immediately.'

'And the necklace with them, we would assume. Slipped into a bag or a pocket. It could be anywhere by now,' Jack said, frowning.

'Indeed.'

Jack couldn't help but watch the soft shimmer of her dress as she walked ahead of him. It slid across her hips almost indecently, and the back dipped daringly low. He shook himself. This was why their relationship could not be allowed to go further than it had the time he had kissed her. He would not be able to control his feeling towards her, whereas she would remain as in control as ever: indifferent to his love, or at least, unable to return it. She was not the marrying kind.

Phryne led them up a curved marble staircase, and into an elegant and expensively furnished lounge. She gestured to the back wall, where a forlorn display box sat in pride of place, empty. The lock had been smashed, and lay crumpled on the floor.

'The ball began at half past seven this evening,' she said, as they examined it. 'Everything was as you would expect. Although there were some unexpectedly delicious canapés,' she mused. 'Anyway, Mrs. Davies - the owner of this lovely house, and a friend of Aunt Prudence, you see - retreated upstairs to her rooms to refresh herself, and next thing you know, she's screaming like she's been stabbed. When I rushed up with my g- umm, with my wits at the ready, I found Mrs. Davies in hysterics, and the necklace, of course, was gone.' She frowned. 'But no one I talked to had seen anything suspicious.'

Jack nodded and looked grim. They appeared to be no closer to finding their criminal than before.

'There must have been hundreds of guests here. If we find no more evidence in the house, it looks to be a long case.'

**x**

Phryne sat on Jack's desk just to taunt him, he was sure of it.

'Well, there's no other way round it, Jack. This ball is the perfect opportunity to catch our thief. They'll be getting arrogant after three successes. I'm sure that they'll make an appearance tonight.'

'Are you suggesting we stake out the house?'

'No, Jack dear. You can be my date,' she said, smiling smugly.

Jack rubbed his hand across his face. He had suspected this would be her conclusion. At the moment, however, he was not sure he could survive a night exclusively in her company.

'Phryne, surely my presence is suspicious. Do you think the thief won't notice that police are in attendance?'

'One policeman. I can acquire an invitation through Aunt Prudence, I'm sure. And don't worry Jack, I'm sure we can pull off the act convincingly,' she said, lingering over the last word. Her eyes flicked across his face, assessing his response.

The stern expression made her smile.

'Excellent, well, now that that's settled, I'd best be off. Do find a nice suit, Jack. You'll look very dapper, I'm sure.'

With a swirl of white silk and a fleeting smile, she disappeared.

'Only if Collins and Miss Williams accompany us!', he called after her, too late to receive a reply. He sat down heavily. Oh dear. What was he in for tonight? He had seen Phryne dance on numerous occasions, the least of which was a rather risque fan dance. It almost made him blush just thinking about it, and he never blushed. He hoped to God she would wear something with a back this time. Where was he supposed to put his hands?

His imagination suddenly took him from ballroom to boudoir as he thought of his hands on her soft white skin, of running them down her back and pulling her against him, slowing undoing that silk dress so that he could reach more of her, and feel her hot skin rub back against his body. Her green eyes would be burning with lust for him, and she would breath his name into his ear. She would press him onto the bed, and sink down his body... she would watch him through her lashes and dare him to move as she wrapped her lips around him and-

'Inspector?'

Jack nearly had a heart attack.

It was Collins, from beyond the office door. Jack cursed his overactive imagination and berated himself for his utter stupidity. At work, of all places. He called for Collins to enter, sounding, to his embarrassment, slightly strangled.

The situation was becoming problematic, Jack thought. This infatuation was out of control, and he was behaving like a hormonal teenager. As Miss Fisher surely did not return his feelings, the best course of action would be to avoid her company. He would shield himself from her flirtations as much as possible tonight, and nothing would happen between them. And that would be the end of it.


	2. Chapter 2

Phryne sunk deeper into her deliciously warm bath, and sighed contentedly. The scented oil Dot had added made her skin silkily smooth, and she couldn't resist running her fingers down her body. Mmm. She cupped a breast absent-mindedly. If only she had someone else to enjoy this bath with. Phryne tried to imagine the skilled, gentle hands of her occasional lover Lin Chung taking the place of her own. He had been delectable in bed. As beautiful as Lin was, however, her thoughts drifted determinedly back to the present, settling, as they always did of late, on Detective Inspector Jack Robinson. Phryne hummed at the thought of his hands on her body, and, oh, his mouth. She smiled slyly to herself. She wanted Jack's fingers to work their way under her clothing, his dark eyes locked on hers. She imagined stripping him of his suit layers, one by one, until she reached his skin, and the catch in his breath when she tweaked his nipple. She would run her hands over his chest and down, until she could undo his belt and finally see her restrained policeman come entirely undone.

But one could survive only a limited time on ghosted imaginings, and the Inspector remained as determined as ever to avoid seduction. He was so tightly knit in moral principles, she thought, it was a wonder he could breath.

Phryne frowned, and turned her attention reluctantly to their current case. They had been struggling to catch this thief for several months now. The criminal had attended three of the last four of the most exclusive balls in Melbourne, and had managed to acquire some of the most valuable articles of jewellery in the city. It was beginning to make the police look rather foolish.

Last time, the criminal had stolen from right under her nose, and they would not succeed in doing so again. She would hunt them down tonight. A robbery would not be allowed to spoil a perfectly lovely evening with her favourite policeman.

**x**

The phone rang, and Jack picked it up tiredly. It had been a long day.

'Jack!', a voice exclaimed, before he could speak. He smiled. Phryne's energy was contagious.

'I've wrangled us invitations. It wasn't as easy as I expected, and I had to call in a favour with an old friend whose mother I once absolved of murder. But never mind, we have an opportunity to catch our jewel thief in the act.'

'Right,' said Jack, taking a moment to absorb this information. 'Umm...good work, Miss Fisher. So what time should I tell Collins?'

'Oh no, I could only get two tickets, I'm afraid, Jack dear. We'll have to leave Constable Collins and Dot behind. Such a shame,' she said happily.

Jack groaned. 'So you'll pick me up from the station?' he asked.

'I'll be there at seven o'clock sharp.'

She hung up, and Jack checked his watch. It was nearly six. He'd better ready his suit.

**x**

Constable Collins' looked quite gobsmacked when Phryne waltzed into the station at two minutes to seven.

'Is the Inspector ready, Collins?' she asked, smiling.

'Ah. Not for this, Miss' he blurted, then looked mortified.

Phryne laughed, and he managed a grin.

She had made a special effort tonight. Her dress was a very light silver silk, sheer in the light. It hung perfectly around her body, with a heavily embroidered waist to lend it weight. An extra layer of fabric draped across the hips prevented indecency, and hanging silver beads and embroidery around the neckline performed the same function at the bust. The dress was cut fashionably low, leaving plenty of room for Phryne's favourite pearls, which laced around her slim neck and draped delicately across her chest. A headband to match the necklace circled over her sharp black bob, dripping pearls to frame her face. She had wrapped a thick white fur stole around her shoulders, which shone with its own silvery glow, and felt as soft as a cloud.

The inspector must have heard her voice, because he promptly emerged from his office in a neat black suit. He gave her a courteous nod, managing not to look too shocked by the outfit, which revealed far more than her grey silk dress had.

'Jack dear, you look dashing' Phryne said warmly, gliding over to take his arm.

'And you look as, umm, lovely as ever,' he replied slightly stiffly.

Jack turned to the constable. 'Collins, you know what to do. Have the car directly outside the house all night.'

'Yes, sir. We'll be waiting, sir.'

Phryne nodded at the young policeman, and led her inspector to their car, where Mr Butler awaited them.

**x**

'So, what's your alias, Inspector?' Phryne asked as Mr Butler pulled the Hispano-Suiza away from the curb.

Jack was relieved that he didn't have to ignore the multiple road offences Miss Fisher was sure to have committed if she was at the wheel, and had relaxed slightly. He was still determined to ignore her flirtations, but a bit of banter was allowable, surely. He raised his eyebrows at her, trying to look stern.

'Retired policeman?'

'Very creative,' she said, and then dropped her tone to conspiratorial whisper. 'What if you were once a proper sea-faring, plundering pirate, and you've settled in Melbourne to at last spend your stolen gold?'

Clearly he wasn't the only one with an overactive imagination.

'I'm far too pedestrian for that, Miss Fisher. What about a banker?'

'You're far from pedestrian, Jack,' Phryne said, serious for once. Her tone said he was foolish to even suggest it. She tilted her head and gave him a peculiar look, and her green eyes held him captive. They were such a lovely shade of green, Jack thought, resisting the temptation to say so out loud.

'Or perhaps we met in France during the war, and fell desperately in love,' she said, slipping back into a playful tone, 'and we've just found one another after years apart.'

Jack freed himself from her gaze, and turned away in case his face gave away something it shouldn't.

'I think I'll go with banker,' he said, aiming for nonchalance.

**x**

Mr Butler deposited them by the front door, and they entered arm in arm at Phryne's insistence.

The opulence of the ballroom took Jack's breath away. Huge chandeliers filled the hall with soft light, and everything from the marble floors to the gilt framed mirrors shone splendidly. Suited waiters wafted amongst the guests, offering cocktails, champagne and hors d'oeuvre. A few couples were already waltzing to gentle, sprightly jazz.

He felt out of place, but consoled himself by surveying the room for suspicious persons as they made a slow circuit of it. There were a lot of guests, but he could rule out those who were helping themselves enthusiastically to the refreshments. He doubted that the thief would want to be inebriated before their crime.

Phryne leaned in. 'I bet it's him,' she murmured, nodding at a tall gentlemen. 'Look at his jacket.'

Jack could see nothing remarkable about it.

'What do you mean?' he sighed.

'It's the most expensive item in this room,' she said, quite happy with herself.

Jack glanced around, taking note of the glittering dresses, extravagant paintings, and the grand piano, and raised his eyebrows.

'Surely not,' he said incredulously.

'Trust me, Jack. And he's clearly a stranger here, he hasn't spoken with anyone yet tonight. He arrived just ahead of us.'

'Well, he's a possibility. If you're correct,' Jack said, 'But so is almost everyone else in the room.'

'Want to bet?' she dared him with a smile.

No, because you'll probably win, he thought.

'It won't be him, Miss Fisher,' he said firmly, to avoid the wager.

'I'll bet you a bottle of the finest whisky in Mr Butler's collection,' she returned.

Now that was sorely tempting. Mr Butler had faultless taste in liquor. There was such a small chance she was right anyway, he reasoned.

'Deal.'

She laughed. 'But I haven't named my prize yet!'

'Well, what will it be?'

'Hmm...' she breathed, looking him over slowly with a wicked smile. He would have frowned at her salaciousness, except that it sparked something low in his belly. He couldn't help the half smile that tugged at his lips.

'What's on offer?' she asked cheekily.

Anything you want, he thought, then kicked himself.

'The chance to assist in a police investigation, next time there's an interesting crime,' he decided, after a moment's deliberation.

'That doesn't count. You know I'll do that anyway. What about dinner?'

'Dinner?'

'Yes. An evening in your company.'

This wasn't exactly part of his long-term plan to avoid heartbreak, but he could hardly back out now.

'I look forward to it,' he agreed.

She granted him a dazzling smile. 'Excell-' Her smile vanished.

'Jack, look,' she said, nodding covertly behind him. He turned just in time to see a well-dressed young man slide a gun from under the lid of the piano, and slip into the next room.


	3. Chapter 3

The boy was handsome and looked well-to-do, but he must be a fool, Phryne thought, to risk displaying the gun to the entire room. Why on earth had it been planted there?

They made a beeline for the door, skirting flirting couples and bunches of merry friends as quickly as they could without drawing attention to themselves.

'Do you want to arrest him?' she murmured to Jack.

'I'd love to, but storing a firearm in a piano isn't exactly a chargeable offence.'

She gave him a half smile. 'So we watch him and wait?'

'Yes. And note down anyone he's friendly with.'

They reached the open doorway and found that it led to a small sitting room. Quite a few guests had wandered in, some gathering by the fireplace while others stood and drank, or sprawled on the claw-footed couches. Their thief was huddled in the corner, talking nervously with a matronly woman of Aunt Prudence's age.

Jack and Phryne exchanged a puzzled glance.

'That's Mrs. Harewood,' Phryne explained, 'Our hostess. A widower. Inherited an enormous fortune and moved here from England several years ago.'

'And our thief is, what, a family friend?' Jack frowned. 'Well, I guess he'd know his way around, if that's the case.'

They watched as the young man turned away from Mrs. Harewood, and sidled into a group of nearby guests. They were standing around a sideboard laden with delicate appetisers, and he joined them, chatting happily. Mrs. Harewood retreated to the couch, engaging an elderly woman in conversation. The scene was entirely unsuspicious.

Phryne realised they had been staring for a little too long. She tugged on the Detective-Inspector's arm, and led him across the room. Their suspect was suitable contained in the corner, and the Inspector needed to be distracted from peering around wolfishly.

'Jack, try one of these oysters,' she said, nudging him closer to the food. 'They're absolutely delightful.'

She speared one with a small silver fork, and held out the morsel like a challenge. He hesitated, and a frown flickered across his face as he glanced at the thief. Phryne placed a hand on his arm, and his face softened. He leaned in an inch, opening his mouth just slightly. She grinned, and placed the oyster inside.

'So smooth, aren't they, Inspector?' she murmured, slowly and teasingly. 'They just slide down your throat. Want another?'

'I'll manage it myself,' he said, his voice deep and warm.

He was standing temptingly close, eyes studying her face. He made no move to help himself to more food.

'Oh, did you try the apricot tartlets?' she smiled, knowing he hadn't. 'There are crumbs on your suit. Here, let me.' With this entirely transparent excuse, she reached up and brushed off his lapels, running her hands across his chest. He was pleasantly muscled underneath and she hummed her approval.

Suddenly he seemed to realise what she was doing, and coughed.

'Miss Fisher,' he said warningly.

She smiled impishly, but stepped back. She let her eyes roam over him and fiddled idly with her dress. He looked gorgeous in a tux.

Phryne glanced over at their suspect, who was still chatting away peacefully, safely ensconced amongst the guests. They were standing between him and the door. Turning back to Jack, she shrugged.

'Safe for now, it seems. Champagne?' Her eyes flicked across the room to where a waiter flourished a platter of glasses.

'I'll pass for the moment,' he said, slightly exasperated.

'Suit yourself,' she drawled.

They stared at each other for a moment, until Phryne broke the eye contact, pivoted, and stalked away. She exaggerated the movement of her hips, knowing he was watching.

**x**

Jack glared at that ridiculously revealing dress. She was infuriatingly gorgeous. Like a Hellenic statue, all silken drapes and marble skin. A Venus or Aphrodite, he decided. He could see the silhouette of her legs through the silk, and the subtle groove of her spine in the small of her back. Desires he had previously suppressed began to uncurl, and he shook his head to clear them.

Nothing could happen between them, he repeated emphatically to himself. Phryne was exotic and adventurous and would tire of him in days, if she even truly desired him. She could flirt with anyone, he had observed, and her lovers changed almost as regularly as her clothing. He didn't hold it against her, but the thought of being tossed aside after a night in her bed, being just a diversion or a bit of fun to her... well. It was just about unbearable.

He sighed deeply, and tearing his eyes from Miss Fisher, he turned back to the thief.

Who had disappeared.

**x**

Phryne materialised at his side.

'How on earth did that happen?' Jack muttered, wishing for a moment that Phryne was less of a permanent drain on his attention.

'He didn't leave through the door,' she murmured back, 'He left through there.' She nodded at the wall.

'He's a ghost, Miss Fisher?' Jack asked sarcastically, still annoyed with himself.

'Follow me,' she whispered, tugging him closer. She turned so that he was pressing her against the wall, as if they were engaged in a very intimate conversation. His gazed drifted to her lips. Phryne indicated right with her head, and traced her fingers down a crack in the wood beside her. Following her gesture, he realised with a start that the entire panel next to them was actually a discrete door. It even had a small gold handle. He looked at her in wonder.

Phryne smiled, and glanced around surreptitiously. She tugged at the door and it inched open silently.

'Perfect,' she whispered, and darted through.


	4. Chapter 4

Jack stepped in behind her and suddenly found himself pressed very close against Phryne's body. She was warm through the silk. The door clicked shut softly, and they were left in darkness.

'Well then, hello,' she murmured. He could hear her smiling.

'Miss Fisher, move inside,' he breathed back, feeling quite hot all of a sudden.

'I can't, Jack dear. We're in a cupboard.'

'We're in... What?'

'A cupboard, Jack. What else is this small? But there must be a way through to another part of the house, the thief went this way.' She reached behind her to feel around the edges of the walls. They were so close that he felt every movement.

'There must be a hidden door,' she whispered.

'Right then,' he muttered, pressing himself back against the wall.

This was ridiculous, he thought, but they couldn't burst back out into the quiet sitting room. People would draw all kinds of conclusions. Although Phryne would probably find that amusing. He glared at her through the darkness.

This whole escapade was her idea, and now here they were, trapped in a cupboard the size of a coffin. Jack stepped away from that thought. He had never been fond of tight spaces, and this was claustrophobically small. Despite Phryne's presence he felt a lurch of unease, and his throat tightened. He slid his hands up to loosen his tie, but Phyrne stilled, obviously feeling the movement. Oh. His hands were at the level of her breasts.

'Do you need a hand there, Jack?' she asked innocently.

'No.' He cleared his throat, clamping his hands back down to his sides. 'No, just...a little cramped.'

She huffed a gentle laugh in his ear.

'Unless it's just me, it is getting quite hot in here. Hang on...'

He felt her shifting, and then the soft thick fur of her stole slid across his throat and chest and off to the side, where it slipped to the floor.

'Much better.'

There was a bit more room now, but with the fur out of the way, Jack couldn't move without brushing against her smooth skin.

He swallowed, and tried desperately to ignore that fact as he felt up and down the side walls.

'You can't feel anything?' he whispered.

'I can feel quite a lot, Jack. But a door? Unfortunately not.'

'Keep looking.'

How she managed to flirt so outrageously in such a situation was beyond him, but it had its desired effect. Jack concentrated determinedly on the wood under his hands to distract himself from the fact that Miss Fisher herself was right there, pressed indecently close against him. They were so close that their hips were touching. He turned his thoughts away from that area immediately -his body was having too much of a reaction already.

She let out a soft exhalation and her lips, her soft, red lips, were so close that he could turn his head and meet them with his own. Those lips, he recalled, had met his quite passionately when he had kissed her so unexpectedly on the Dubois case. Her eyes had widened in surprise, he remembered, but she had certainly kissed him back. Heat rose within him at the memory of the way she had lingered over the kiss and the heat in her eyes afterwards. Would she be surprised if he tried it now? But no. He couldn't. He took a deep breath.

More air, he thought, feeling the walls closing in. He couldn't resist another attempt to loosen his collar.

'Sorry,' he muttered, reaching up.

'Oh, just let me,' Phyrne breathed, and her hand caught his. 'Hold still.' He felt her hands slide languorously over his chest, and he shivered as she deftly undid the knot in the hollow of his neck.

'And here, before you expire,' she murmured. Her tone was light, but her lips almost imperceptibly grazed his ear. She undid his top button, and the next, and brushed her fingertips slowly across the bare skin.

'Phryne,' he murmured, closing his eyes.

Her fingers traced up his neck, one hand reaching up to rest behind him while the other brushed small circles on his skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

He half-heartedly opened his mouth to protest, but at the same time her fingers reached his lips. She brushed over them, softly tracing their outline and stopping just short of dipping inside. He didn't want her touch to disappear, so he dipped his head to kiss her palm. He felt her light intake of breath.

'Jack?' she asked huskily, and that short syllable contained enough desire to sweep his mind free of all else. There was no point resisting this now, he thought. His own breathing was shallow and fast, and reached forward. He stroked up her thigh to her hip, and took hold.

She arched against him, rolling their hips together, and heat flooded his body. Nothing mattered except that she was here, and wanted him in return. He felt the last of his resolve crumble and he thrust forward against her with a groan of pleasure, letting sensation ripple through him. His hand slid behind her and drew her as close as possible.

Jack felt her leg wrap around his, opening up her hips, and he let out another soft groan, turning his face to find her delicious mouth. Their lips were an inch away when Phryne stiffened.

'Wait, Jack,' she whispered, and the air tickled his lips.

'What is it?' he panted, forcing his body to still.

Over the hammering of his heart and their heavy breathing, there was movement in the room beyond the back wall. They stood frozen, still half entwined.

Had they been heard?

Over the distant murmur of conversation from the sitting room they heard footsteps march closer, then retreat again. They were heavy, careless footsteps. They heard the muffled closing of a door.

'We need to find. The way in,' Jack croaked, his pulse thudding in his ears, echoed insistently by a throbbing in his pants.

'Well then,' Phryne managed to breath back, 'Let's take a rain check?'

She began to squirm, and Jack struggled to control himself as he felt her hips move against his once again. He wanted desperately to pin her to the back wall, to grind his hips into hers.

Phryne twisted, and Jack realised she was trying to turn around.

'Oh God,' he muttered. He dropped his head back against the wall, and concentrated on breathing.

'Hmm...' she wiggled a little more and managed to face the wall.

'Oh God, Phryne.' Her gorgeous, round arse was now making good contact with his crotch. She felt down the wall, bending forwards. He clenched and unclenched his hands, trying to ignore the urgent need to press back against her. He just had to reach forward, drag his hands up past silk stockinged thighs and lace underwear, and then he could rip them down and -

No. That would not do. He planted his hands firmly on the wall behind him and ignored the discomfort in his trousers. He wondered dimly how he was supposed chase criminals in this state.

'Aha!'

Phryne pressed at something low down and at last the back of the cupboard swung out, opening into a darkened library. With barely a sound, she once again disappeared into the unknown, leaving a rather flustered Jack to follow.


End file.
